


A Soft Place To Land

by worryaway



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worryaway/pseuds/worryaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wayhaught AU taking place during their highschool years. Starts during summer but will move into the school year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Willa was never kidnapped in this story. All of their ages are adjusted down, so Willa and Wynonna aren't able to use Peacemaker.

Riding your bike into town, the roads are quiet, typical of summer mornings outside of town. You ride close to the curb, like your sister had always told you.The wind dries your hair, still damp from your shower, and you listen to the chirping in the trees, the spinning of your wheels. The long ride doesn’t bother you, it gives you time to think about anything you’d like. Today, you’re zoning out to thoughts about ancient civilizations of the Western Hemisphere.

Perhaps your preoccupation to the Chavin is to blame when you nearly crash into a flash of red three feet in front of your bike. You swerve into the middle of the road and squeeze the brakes on your bike, managing to screech to a stop. Turning back, you see a girl who had emerged from the alley you were passing. She’s pressed herself back against the brick wall next to the alley, with one hand on her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, out of breath. “My bad,” You shake your head as you walk your bike up to her.

“No, it’s my fault, really. I should be more careful of runners,” you return the apology.

She lifts herself off the wall. “I should probably be more careful of pretty girls on bikes. They’re more dangerous than I would have assumed,” she says. You feel your neck redden and don’t stop yourself from smiling at the flirtation. “I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.” Her hand is warm, not sweaty, warm.

“Waverly Earp. Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before...I think I would remember if I had,” you say, a semi-suggestive tone, and cringe for a moment afterward. “Because…” you trail off, trying to neutralize the statement, “your hair. It - it’s red, and did you know that only two percent of people have red hair. Yep, it’s true,” the words tumble out and you don’t know how that made the situation any less awkward. Nicole glances down, hiding a grin.

“Yes, I’m aware of that fact. And I am new, Dad just got a job for the sheriff’s department.”

“Purgatory could definitely use a couple more officers,” you joke, but based on the confused look on Nicole’s face, it probably wasn’t the best.

“Well, I will see you around, Waverly Earp,” she says with another smile.

“Definitely,” you say. She starts walking off before picking up pace back into her run, going the way you came from while you continue on your bike to Shorty’s.

* * *

 

It’s only eight-thirty in the morning, but Wynonna and Willa are both already at Shorty’s, playing pool together. Seeing the Wynonna up and out of the house before nine is a bit of a surprise.

“Morning, baby girl,” Wynonna greets you when she looks up at the noise of the doors closing.

You nod a hello to your sisters. “What are you two doing here so early?” They look at you in response, knowing you are really wondering why Wynonna is awake at this hour.

“Wynonna and I figured we ought to start accomplishing some things this summer,” Willa says.

“Like a good game of pool?” you tease, earning an eyeroll from Wynonna in response.

“We were starting to fix the rest of the apartments upstairs. Gus wants to rent more of them out,” Wynonna explains during Willa’s turn. You raise your eyebrows as you take in the information.

“Why would Gus do that? Nobody’s stepped foot in those since I was in preschool.”

“Actually, a couple people moved into one the other week,” Willa corrects you. She leans against the wall, waiting for Wynonna.

“I must be dreaming. Not only has somebody rented a dinky apartment, but Wynonna is actually performing physical labor?” Wynonna narrows her eyes at you and takes a shot at a ball.

“There are a few kids coming back from college who are looking to get away from their parents for the summer,” Willa continues. “Maybe you can assist us in getting the apartments in shape.” You can tell she isn’t making it an optional activity.

They finish the game within five minutes, Willa being the winner, and trudge up the rickety stairs to the four apartments above the bar. Wynonna trips, cursing.

“We won’t have any renters if they fall trying to get up these stairs.” You step around the equipment Willa and Wynonna have on the ground of the first available apartment. Your older sisters have already cleaned the kitchen - dusted, vacuumed, and washed every corner.

* * *

 

Together, you and your sisters finish the living room and one bedroom by noon. Everybody is covered in dust and you’re sure the smell of old wood and cleaning supplies will never leave your clothes.

Shorty’s has a stack of towels in the supply closet that you go hunting for. Stepping out of the apartment, your eyes meet another pair. Surprise flashes across both of your faces. Nicole’s face lights up with recognition after a split second.

“Hi, Waverly,” Nicole greets you. She’s changed out the clothes she was running in earlier, and has two bags of groceries from the store across the street in hand.

“Nicole, hey.” She has a set of keys out in her other hand. “Do you live here?”

“This,” she gestures to the door, “is my dad’s apartment. What’s with the crew?”

“My aunt is having my sisters and I clean up the other apartments. It’s proving to be quite the task,” you say with a chuckle. You’re suddenly very aware that you are now the one covered in sweat.

“Would you like an extra pair of hands?” she offers, tilting her head as if she would genuinely enjoy being in the same state as you, sweaty and dirty.

“Nicole, that’s so sweet of you, but we’ll be okay. You get on with your day.” you decline, even though you would like to have the chance of talking to her for a while longer.

“Well, alright. But any time you want some help, you know where to find me,” she says, unlocking her door and nodding at you with a cheeky grin. “I mean it.”

* * *

 

You still have a smile on your face by the time you’ve grabbed a couple of faded blue towels and have returned upstairs. Before you’ve had a chance to stop smiling, Wynonna comes out of the apartment with a bucket and sponge. Water sloshes in the bucket, over the side, and to the ground when she sets it down.

“Something’s got you in a good mood. Care to share with the class?” she says, jolting you from zoning out.

“Nothing important. Let’s go start the bathroom,” you say.

“I’ve known you for your whole life, Waves. This isn’t a ‘nothing important’ smile.” Neither of you say anything for a while. Wynonna is looking at you, her eyebrows are raised, waiting for your answer.

You don’t know what to tell her, so you lean back. The railing of the staircase is pressing into your back. You make eye contact. “Someone was flirting with me, is all,” you confess.

She smiles, satisfied, a little proud. “Glad that somebody is giving my sister the attention she deserves. Since there’s nobody else doing that,” she teases about Champ. Wynonna takes the towels from your hands. She steps back into the apartment, leaving you alone in the hall, the railing still pressed on your back.


	2. Chapter 2

You’ve been working for four days and haven’t seen Nicole since the day you first met. Not that you’re specifically looking for her. It just...seems probable that you would have bumped into her in the hall. You’ve already met her dad as he introduced himself around town.

“You know, you get more work done if you’re actually in the apartment,” Willa chides. You turn from the bucket of paint you’re pouring. Her eyebrows are raised and she tilts her head at you expectantly.

“Gus told me to paint the hall,” you say, leaving out the fact that it was you who prompted her, asking if she’d like you to repaint that “puke green.” _Maybe_ you wanted an excuse to be in the hallway all day. You grab painter’s tape from the ground and start to unroll it.

You have a step stool to tape the ceiling, but she puts her hand on your arm and waits for you to hand her the roll.

“Thanks,” you mumble. She tapes the ceiling, standing on her toes, smoothing it with her hand, and goes back inside.

You put a pair of earbuds in and slip your phone into the pocket of your jeans. It’s an old pair from Willa, still a bit too big on you, but good for getting messy in. You try your best to paint like the people in videos you watched, brushing the edges and corners first.

Half of the hallway’s edges are covered in white primer, along with several spots on your jeans, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Startled, you whip around and yank your earbuds out. You find yourself pointing a paint roller at Nicole Haught, who has taken a step back in shock but still has a playful smile.

“Whoa, there,” she laughs. You lower the roller and fix your defensive stance.

“Sorry, I was just zoning out,” you say, rubbing your forehead. She looks at the painted portion of the wall.

“Waverly, I think there’s more paint on you than the wall itself,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m not the greatest at this,” you admit.

“You could take me up on my previous offer. I’ve been painting my dad’s apartment and I think I have the hang of it,” she offers. You consider for a moment, but there isn’t much compelling you to decline her offer.

“Alright,” you say. She tells you she’s going to go change and comes out in a shirt already stained with paint. It’s white, and her red hair pops against it. She grabs it and begins to tie it up when she catches your eye. You offer a smile and she returns it.

“Ready?” she asks a moment later.

“Yeah,” you nod. She probably saw that you only had one roller, because she’s brought her own out. You both dip the rollers in the paint and begin working.

She talks with you, about your sisters at first, and you learn that she has a sister as well. Eventually you discover together that Nicole’s sister, Hayley, and Willa are the same age. The next few hours are spent the same way, you tell her about Purgatory and she tells you a bit about where she’s from.

“There’s a little ice cream shop…” you pause, rolling paint carefully onto the bottom of the wall, “on Parker Avenue that you absolutely have to try.”

She glances over to you and looks back to the wall, holding you in her peripheral vision. “Only if I can take you there.”

Your roller freezes. “Like, a date?” you ask, attempting a casual tone, resuming the painting.

“Whatever you want it to be,” she says, sitting back. You turn your face a bit so she can’t see the blush creeping up your neck.

“I uh, I have. You know. A...guy. Boy- boyfriend.,” you stutter.

“A boyfriend?” she smirks. “Well, doesn’t that suck.” She winks and starts getting up. Your face falls.

“Nicole, I’m sorry. You don’t have to leave” you say, trying to make sure you didn’t hurt her feelings.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, Waverly,” she chuckles and goes into her apartment. You sit against the non-painted area and let out a sigh, interrupted by another door opening. Wynonna holds two trash bags, kicks the door shut. She sees you, sets them down, and sits next to you.

“Hey, babygirl. What are you doing all alone?” She swings and knocks her shoulder on yours.

“I’m not alone. Someone’s helping me,” you say. Wynonna looks around the empty hallway and tilts her head.

“You know, my friend Jane from _the hospital_ used to say that, too,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“No, I’m serious. She’s just in the bathroom.” Wynonna nods, and stands up, ruffling your hair. She’s on the first step on the staircase when Nicole comes out of the apartment, her back to Wynonna. Your sister glances back at Nicole for a moment and gives you a raised eyebrow and thumbs up.

You work in the hall for a couple more hours alongside Nicole, Wynonna and Willa work in the apartment.

* * *

 

You stop in Shorty’s later and get a coke. With Nicole’s help, you’d finished two layers of paint on the entire hallway.

You think as you sip from your coke. Mostly about Nicole. She has a kitten that she brought you in her apartment to meet. The kitten is a few weeks old and you think you’ve never seen anything so precious. She had gone from sticking her head out from behind the wall for a look at you to rubbing her face on your ankles within five minutes.

_“I think she likes me,” you whispered. The kitten was dozing in the crook of your arm_

_“Maybe she isn’t the only one,” Nicole said, so soft you nearly missed it. A smile crept up your face._

“Hey baby,” Champ says, throwing a sweaty arm around your shoulder, disrupting your memory. It pinches a muscle that’s been sore from painting. You shrug it off and his brow knits together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you snap, taken aback by your tone. You shake your head and tell him you’ve been sore because of the apartments. He grins with that look and you’re ready to slap him for what you know is coming.

“I could help with that.”

“Don’t, Champ. Don’t be crude,” you say. He scoffs. “I’m not being mean, Waves, I’m just trying to make you feel better,” he says. You look at him incredulously and wonder if this boy has ever had an actual conversation or read a book. You don’t think you can deal with him right now. Not when you’re so tired, you tell yourself. That’s what it is. You’re just tired.

“ _Crude_. Not cruel,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he shrugs. “All I’m saying is-”

“I have to go,” you cut him off, jumping up and storming out of Shorty’s bar before Champ can say anything.

* * *

 

You sit on the curb outside of the bar and text Wynonna that you want to go home. A few people walk by and greet you. Old Mrs. Jennings tells you that a girl like yourself shouldn’t have to be sitting upset on a curb. Ronnie Taylor asks if you’re okay and walks on when you tell him everything’s fine.

Your sisters appear a few minutes later, looking like they’ve just butted heads. Willa places her hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to get up, and you stand. Willa drives the truck with Wynonna sitting shotgun. A cold silence drapes itself over the ride back to the homestead, making you wish you had rode your bike to Shorty’s this morning.

Wynonna jumps out the second Willa comes to a stop. The truck still hums below you and Willa sits in the driver’s seat, showing no indication that she might move any time soon.

“Willa?” you whisper. “What happened?” She doesn’t say anything, and you’re unsure if she heard you.

“Go inside,” she says, voice dripping with exhaustion.

You exit the car and open the front door. Looking past it, you see Willa with her hands on the steering wheel, glaring at it. It’s obvious that she wants to leave the second you step inside. You shut the door behind you, making sure it clicks into place, and start looking for Wynonna.

* * *

 

You’ve looked through every room of the house and Wynonna isn’t in any of them, so you head to the barn. She’s on one of the beams, her legs hanging over the side, with her favorite bottle of whiskey sitting next to her. She swings her leg and gives you a forced smile.

“Hey babygirl,” she says, patting the spot next to her, opposite the whiskey. You climb up and settle down with a sigh. She adjusts her shoulder when you move to rest your head on it. Her nails make tiny clicks on the bottle as she moves to pick it up and take a sip. Wynonna releases a breath and offers the bottle in front of you.

“No,” you decline. “What happened? You two never tell me anything.” You tilt your eyes up and see her lips pressed into a line.

“Willa and I got into an argument,” she says, as if that was the mystery. You kind of already figured that part out an hour ago.

“About?” you prompt.

“She…” Wynonna trails off, unsure of what to say. She shrugs and shakes her head once. “She wants to leave. Purgatory.”

It’s a lot for you to process. Purgatory is a strange, sometimes difficult place to live in, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. “I don’t want to leave,” you say. You’re not looking at Wynonna, but you hear her sniffle.

“What she meant was _she_ wants to leave. Doesn’t want us to come with,” the words tip out, slow and strained. Her words make their way to your chest, where they sit on top of it and weigh down. Wynonna takes another drink from her bottle and kisses your head.

“Waves, I love you, but I’m freaking out. I have no fucking idea how to take care of you. Willa’s the one who goes to your school and meets your teachers. She...fills out the paperwork and pays bills. She fixes the kitchen sink when it breaks. I don’t know how to do that. Any of that.”

“Well,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood, “for starters, we don’t really do teacher conferences anymore.”

“Oh, what a relief,” she says overdramatically. Several minutes pass with neither of you saying anything, just the sound of whiskey hitting the walls of the bottle when Wynonna drinks.

“You should let her go, you know.”

“I do know,” she says, rubbing your arm.

* * *

 

The smell of coffee greets you as you stir awake from sleep the next morning. It’s strong. The clock tells you it’s half past seven, so you know Wynonna definitely wouldn’t be up. Which means that Willa is home.

The stairs creak under your feet. You stop at the wall of the kitchen.

“Waverly, don’t just stand there,” Willa calls. You enter and sit across from her, waiting for her to tell you what you already know. It annoys you, how she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything but take a sip of her coffee.

“Wynonna already told you?” she asks. You nod. “Are you angry with me?”

“No. I am worried for Wynonna, though,” you confess. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” she says, a grin creeping across her face. She’s happy, excited, for this. So you’ll be happy with her. “I’m not leaving until you start school, though.”

“Did you tell Wynonna that?”

“Wynonna cut me off the second I mentioned leaving. You would have thought I’d shot her by the look on her face,” Willa tells you.

“She’s scared.”

Willa considers for a moment, tapping her cup. “She’ll be fine, it’s just...new to her.”

* * *

 

You’ve ridden to the apartments on your bike again, while Willa and Wynonna talk at the homestead. To your surprise, a certain redhead is sitting on the staircase when you get there.

“Hey, Waverly. You ready to finish painting?” she asks, standing up and walking up with you. You didn’t expect her to want to help you again today.

“Definitely,” you say. It’s nice working with her, you’re efficient together. She gets the rollers and you pour paint, or she paints the north wall and you paint the south.

* * *

 

The hallway is done by noon, so you take her to the ice cream shop you told her about in celebration.

You smile at how it takes her three minutes to decide she wants chocolate peanut butter in a cone. You smile again at how she gets it on the tip of her nose and doesn’t notice. You tell her, and can only just see her cheeks redden. She wipes it off with a napkin and tosses it at you when you laugh at her.

There’s a buzz in your pocket - a text from Champ. You shut your phone off without checking what it says.

“Nicole, do you want to hang out for a couple more hours?” you ask.

“That would be a pleasure, Waverly,” she says, her expression warm and her smile soft. All you want is to see more of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of short, but wrapping up the summer and establishing some more of Waverly's feelings. enjoy

You show her around Purgatory, taking her to the high school first and point to a spot behind a row of trees.

“That’s where a bunch of losers like to say they went and got high during class. They’re all liars,” you say, a second later realizing that Champ is one of them. You don’t tell her that.

Next is the diner down the street, and you let her know that it’s the best place for breakfast in town. But, since it’s mid afternoon, you order lunch to go and take her on a hike to Swan Reservoir.

“It’s beautiful here,” she says over her sandwich. Her eyes are wide, taking in as much as she can.

“Willa used to take me here all the time when I was little. She’d let me play in the field and then she would...go off somewhere,” you say, trying to grab at the rest of your memories. “I don’t know where. But somehow she’d always know where I was. Every time I tripped on a rock or got scratched by branches, she’d come running.”

“That sounds nice,” Nicole hums. “It sounds like Willa really cares about you.”

“She kind of has to,” you chuckle.

Nicole cocks her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you say before you finish a bite of your sandwich. “Our mom left when I was four. Dad died the same year.”

You see that it’s a bit of a shock to her, the way you say it, as if it was a tiny footnote in your history. You’re suddenly very aware of her staring at you. You bite your bottom lip in a grimace. “Uh, listen-”

“My mom died when I was eight,” she says as she rips off a piece of her sandwich, matching your tone. It’s you staring at her this time. She gives you a wink before saying, “It’s nice to know someone who gets it.”

You share a smile. There’s silence after, not neither-of-us-know-what-to-say silence, but a comfortable one. You eat your sandwiches and you point birds out to her. She smiles at each one.

A breeze rustles the grass and blows through her hair. It catches the sunlight and you can’t help but be entranced for a moment, your eyes shift from her red hair to the curve of her lips. She catches you and gives you a curious smile before you can pretend you weren't staring. You know she's not _un_ attractive, but you also know you've never done this to your other friends.

You walk back to town an hour later, back to Shorty’s. The truck isn’t in the lot, so your sisters either left a while ago or never came in.

“Well, guess I should go in,” Nicole says with an awkward smile. “Am I going to help you again tomorrow?”

“Nicole, you know you really don’t have to. My sisters and I can handle it,” you say.

“What else am I going to do all day?” she asks, her voice dripping with that flirty tone.

“I mean, Purgatory doesn’t have much to offer in areas of recreation, but it is summer. There are quite a few things you could get into,” you deflect her flirtation.

“Maybe I don’t want to do anything else.”

She wears you down too quickly; you never really did stand a chance. “Then, yes, you can come help tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Waverly.”

* * *

 

You’d found them in different parts of the house when you came in last night. Wynonna was scowling at the TV. She tried offering you a smile and looked back at the television. Willa was in her room, the door locked.

You had tried to beat them downstairs this morning, but Willa was already getting milk from the fridge when you got there. She talks with you as you eat together, asking about the painting job. She even looks happy when you told her you finished it.

“So, my friend Nicole is going to help at the apartment today.”

Your sister narrows her eyes. “Why? We don’t need any help,” she says.

“She helped with painting the hallway,” you defend Nicole. “Besides, she’s the one who offered.”

Willa opens her mouth as Wynonna walks in. Seeing Wynonna from the corner of her eye, she closes her mouth and she presses her lips into a line. Wynonna pours herself a bowl and seats herself next to you, across from Willa. The rest of breakfast is silent, as well as the ride to Shorty’s.

* * *

 

Willa starts up the stairs to the apartments, Wynonna following after a few seconds. You’re about to make your way upstairs when -

“Champ.” He’s leaning against the wall, but stands when he sees you coming.

“Hey Waves,” he says. “Listen, I thought we could hang out today.”

You look at him with a blank stare, trying to see if he’s serious. “I told you we’ve been working on the apartments.”

“Yeah but you can just take a day off or something, right?” he asks. And you can’t tell if it’s just the mood that your sisters ignoring each other has put you in, or if it’s how Champ doesn’t even _pretend_ to care that you’re busy, but you can’t stand it anymore. Can’t stand _him_.

“We’re done,” you say. There’s something assertive in your voice that you like. His head is cocked to the side and his brow is furrowed in confusion.“Yeah...we’re done, Champ.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, lips parted, about to try to convince you not to break up with him.

“I have work to do,” you shrug and climb the steps.

* * *

 

There’s a knock on the door an hour later. You open it to see Nicole, a smile spreading over her face. You involuntarily mirror her.

“You didn’t have to knock,” you tell her. She steps over the threshold and you lead her through the rooms.

“Alright, I won't knock tomorrow.”

* * *

 

You spend nearly every day with her, whether you’re working or not. She goes to Shorty’s with you most days, where you spend another hour just talking to her. Not _just_ talking. Nicole might flirt with you a couple of times, you’re not oblivious.

The apartments are finished quickly with the help from another pair of hands and it crosses your mind that you might not get to see her as much now. You’re texting her one night, a couple of weeks after you finished working, when you tell her you miss her. Those stupid dots show up in the corner and then fade away, but no text comes through. Your fingers tap the screen in embarrassment, typing out “Working with you. I miss working with you.”

You stare at the screen for three minutes, three agonizing minutes, before she sends you, “I miss working with you, too.”

* * *

 

You and Nicole hang out most days for the remainder of the summer, deciding to do something about missing being with each other. She invites you to run with her each morning, and you accept the offer. Sometimes you feel like you might be slowing her down, but she stays with you.

Willa leaves in mid August. She and Wynonna began speaking with each other again a few weeks after the fight they had.

You wake to her sitting on the edge of your bed, shaking you awake. It’s early, too early for the sun to have risen, even in summer. Light from the hallway pours into your room and illuminates the room just enough for you to see Willa.

“Are you leaving now?” you ask, still mostly asleep. You try fighting the urge to drift back asleep, wanting to remember saying goodbye to her. She never told you how long she’d be gone.

“Yeah,” she whispers while stroking your hair.

You sit up and sink into a hug. “What are you going to do first? Ride horses in Arizona?”

She pushes you off, an arm still resting on your shoulder, and smirks. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you were the kid obsessed with horses in this family.”

She breathes out a chuckle and pulls you back. “I was not.”

“Willa, you had like six horse posters in your room.”

Your sister stays with you for another minute before pressing a kiss onto head and saying, “I really have to go now. I still have to talk to Wynonna,” she pauses. “I love you, Waves.”

“I love you, too,” you say. She closes your door and you’re exhausted, but can't drift back into sleep. You stay in bed for a few hours, trying to get comfortable, but give up and go downstairs to an empty kitchen for breakfast.


End file.
